


Fear and Solitude

by Thebiwife



Category: ER (TV 1994), The Fall (TV 2013)
Genre: Autumn/Winter 2016, Eventual Smut, F/F, London, Post-Canon, Recreational Drug Use, Smut, Smut More Smut and British Accents, Teenage Rebellion
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:34:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 8,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26939722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thebiwife/pseuds/Thebiwife
Summary: It's October 2016 and Elizabeth Corday is knee-deep in bureaucracy as Chief Medical Officer at a private London Hospital. Stella Gibson has returned to London following the eventful end of Operation Musicman, and takes back over her former jurisdiction, which involves investigating a corruption scandal at the heart of Elizabeth's workplace.
Relationships: Elizabeth Corday/Stella Gibson
Comments: 6
Kudos: 23





	1. Chapter 1

Just getting out of the station, having been filled in on everything about this _illegal plastic surgery ring being run out of one of London's most renowned private hospitals resulting in botched surgeries and fatalities,_ Stella almost missed Belfast. While she would usually work on these high-profile cases, and the investigations around them - such as the job that initially had taken her to Belfast - investigating a serial killer going back years had given a purpose to her job as a Detective that filled her with the kind of satisfaction she hadn't had in years. The people working around her hadn't been so bad either.

Passing through Borough Market to grab lunch before then being cooped up in a conference room inside London Bridge Hospital for an afternoon of information-gathering caution-plus-three interviews, Stella and her team were now effectively ready to make their arrests. It was just a case of getting the timing right. She just had one more person to see before the end of the day, when she could finally remove her heels and collapse on the sofa of her Hampstead home.

After heading up to the fifth floor, Stella found the office she'd been searching for and knocked at the door, “Good evening, I’m Detective Superintendent Gibson," she opened the door tentatively, beginning to speak before she'd spotted who she was supposed to be speaking to. "Are you Miss Corday?”

“Ms spelt with M-S, yes,” Elizabeth yelled bluntly from behind her desk. 

“Is this not a good time?” Stella asked, approaching the desk.

“There is never a good time I’m afraid.” Elizabeth paused still and pushed her blonde curls out of her face to look at Stella's warrant card, before looking down and beginning to rummage through a desk drawer. “Is this is about the ongoing investigation?”

“It is.” Stella dropped her hands in front of her and stood still, waiting for Elizabeth to address the silence.

“I was speaking to one of your colleagues previously...Chief Inspector…”

“Detective Chief Inspector Carlton was acting up in my absence, yes. I was deployed away from London but now I’m back, evidently.”

“Working away? Anywhere exotic?”

“That would depend on your opinion of Belfast, I suppose?”

A knock at the door interrupted them.

“Can’t say I’ve had the pleasure,” Elizabeth stood up and gave a pained smile in the officer’s direction. “Oh hello, sorry love, unexpected meeting,” she opened the door and let her visitor step through the door. “Sorry won’t be a second,” Elizabeth said to Stella.

“Is it that Plastic Surgery ring again?” a blonde teenage girl, maybe fifteen or sixteen, complained in some type of American accent that Stella tried to place. Maybe somewhere in the Midwest?

“Sadly, it is taking a _lot_ of my time right now.” 

The girl huffed. “When are we even gonna get home tonight? It's only Tuesday and I already have _tonnes_ of homework.” 

"What have you been doing all this time? Didn't you finish school three hours ago?"

"Tuesday night is soccer night."

“Oh, of course. I’m sorry Ella, it’s been a long day for me too. If you want you can go grab some dinner, I'll come join you as soon as I can,” Elizabeth rummaged in her purse to take out and hand over a crisp twenty-pound note. “Just text me where you end up.”

Ella took the cash and headed out back down the corridor in the direction she came from.

“Love you too,” Elizabeth shouted down the corridor after her daughter. “Teenagers,” she shrugged, closing the door behind her.

“Sounds like you’ve had your fair share of exotic postings?”

Confused for a moment before she worked out what the Detective was getting at, “oh, because of her accent?” Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “She was born in Chicago, her father and I worked in the same hospital there. The American School of London has done its job keeping her sounding much more like her father since we moved back.”

“Your husband, is he from the Midwest?”

“No, he was a military brat so moved all over as a kid. Hawai’i, California, God knows where else.”

“Did he not move over here with you?”

“He passed away around the time Ella turned one. Brain cancer.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“It’s been fourteen years. We’ve been on our own far longer than I was ever with him.”

“I see. You never remarried?”

“When do I have time to meet anyone? I spend six days a week in this place.”

“...And so I understand that this investigation may be sensitive for you.”

Elizabeth frowned. “Well I wasn’t directly involved. I don’t supervise any of the parties involved, I hardly do surgery as I sit behind this desk most of the time these days.” She finished tidying her desk, put her ID badge around her neck and picked up her coat. “Can you walk and talk?”

Stella nodded and followed Elizabeth into the corridor. “I meant it may be sensitive because of the extent of you and your family's financial stake in this hospital.”

“Is family not always involved whenever anything goes tits up?“

“Not when it comes to _my_ work, if I can help it.”

“Well my father often is by default.”

“He retired recently?”

“As CEO, last year, and from his position on the board last month. He now spends his days attempting to produce sparkling rosé good enough to sell for more than it costs to produce.”

Stella did not look interested in this line of conversation.

“Not a rosé fan?”

“I much prefer red. Or scotch.”

“A woman after my own heart.”

Elizabeth looked back down at her desk, shuffling through paper on her desk.

“Ms. Corday,” Stella began. 

“Please, call me Elizabeth.”

“Elizabeth, you _are_ Chief Medical Officer of the hospital? _As well as_ part-owner?”

“My _father_ is a majority shareholder. The board appointed me CMO _after_ he retired.”

“Right…”

“It’s true.”

“I don’t doubt it. I’m not accusing you of nepotism.”

“Oh darling of course it‘s nepotism, nepotism got me through the door as early on as my application to study medicine and has followed me through life. I wouldn’t have even considered working in a private sector hospital were it not for the fact I could walk effectively straight into a six-figure salary thanks to my father.”

“The things we do for money.”

“Although I did give eight years to a county hospital. Happiest years of my life.”

Stella nodded. “It’s always when you least expect it, isn't it?"

"Although traumatic to say the least."

"I’m sure our experiences as women high up in our respective fields must be remarkably similar.”

"Although it isn't always the work that causes it," Elizabeth nodded as they approached the door, waving to the security guard. 

“Indeed.“

“What was it you needed from me?”

Stella turned to a stop at the bottom of the steps. “Well it _was_ primarily to put a face to the name. I’ll be following up on the interviews you gave to DCI Carlton, but unless charges are brought against the Hospital itself I can’t imagine we’ll have too much more to ask. Try not to stress yourself out too much.”

“A lot easier said than done. If one of your officers had been running an illegal ... _drug dealing_ ring out of your station you’d maybe understand how I feel.”

“I can’t imagine it would have quite the same impact,” Stella almost laughed. “Listen, we don’t have to be so formal with all of this. If there’s a number I can call you on when I need you we can just do this over a drink?”

“Sure,” Elizabeth nodded and handed over a business card she took from her coat pocket. “Ella and I do live in down Sussex, however, so it may have to be a Friday. Can’t usually fit drinks in on a school night. Speaking of which, I had best catch up with my dear daughter.” Elizabeth looked at her mobile phone and laughed to herself.

“Where did she end up?” 

“I needn’t have looked. She’s at a noodle bar on Bankside. I need to find out what, or should I say _who_ , keeps enticing her down there.”

“Teenagers, hey?”

Elizabeth shivered as she smiled back, a giggle escaping her nostrils, the cold October air catching up with her. 

“Enjoy your noodles. Get some Ramen in you, it will warm you up,” Stella rubbed Elizabeth's arm.

"Right," Elizabeth said, thinking _that smile was enough to warm_ me _up_. “I shall. See you.”


	2. Chapter 2

“Corday,” Elizabeth answered the phone. 

“Elizabeth, it’s Stella Gibson. Can I tempt you with that drink? This evening?”

“Sure. Is 8 o’clock ok?”

“It’s the weekend, can’t you get away any earlier?”

“Perhaps.”

“Call it six? The Seafarer’s arms.”

“Fine. Have you booked a table? Since everywhere is packed on a Friday evening.”

“The landlord has been known to save a small one for me.”

When Elizabeth arrived at the pub she expected to have to search for Stella, or at the very least ask where her regular table could be found. But once she entered the second-closest pub to her hospital, a tiny one at that, she found Stella cramped in a corner between men in suits and tourists crowding the bar. “You meant it when you said a small table?”

“This is London in 2016 my dear, every square foot is sought after.”

“You’re not kidding. This place is tiny, why didn’t you suggest the Barrow Boy and Banker?” Elizabeth squeezed between tables and onto the tiny stool opposite Stella. She nodded to thank her for the glass of red she was pouring.

“It’s an NFL weekend, it’ll be packed out with Giants Fans,” Stella took a sip of her wine. “Have you ever been to a Bears game when they’ve been over? Although it must have been a while since they were.”

“I can’t say I’ve ever followed the NFL. Mark was all baseball and hockey. What did you need to talk to me about?”

“Always straight to the point, aren’t you?” Stella nodded and laughed. “I’m not going to talk about the Investigation too much, afterall, it _is_ Friday. However, what I _can_ tell you is that you won’t be rehiring any of those involved anytime soon.”

“Great,” Elizabeth frowned.

“But I _would_ say that you, Ms. Corday, or should I say your hospital, is as much a victim as the unsuspecting patients. An independent inquiry will follow, undoubtedly costing you far more hurt and pain than anything we plan to throw your way.”

“So...that’s it? You don’t need to ask me anything further?”

“I don’t believe so. We think we have identified all of those involved, your administrative support have been angels at providing us with the evidence we need. Like I said, the rest will be picked up by your board, insurance, and the CQC.”

Elizabeth nodded. “So all those involved have now been charged?”

“Have been, or will be shortly. They’ll all be bailed with conditions not to step foot within your hospital or even think about lifting a scalpel.”

Elizabeth sighed. “...It may be worth having you present your findings at our next board meeting? If you are able to attend, that is.”

“Of course. Although I’m sure you’re more than qualified to talk your board through our charges and report the impact on your services.“

“I’m flattered,” Elizabeth said, taking a large glug of the wine. “What it has revealed is where there is still demand for private cosmetic surgery & plastics and we’re unable to meet that demand because of price-hiking across the sector.”

“Does this whole thing not...tempt you to work for the NHS? Not to say there isn’t corruption in the public sector, but do you not think it would be a refreshing change?”

“What, with the current idiots in charge?”

“Your defensiveness says far more about you than anything else you’ve volunteered,” Stella said, raising her eyebrows.

“Hmmm.” Elizabeth’s eyebrows matched her new friend’s. _Are we even friends?_ Elizabeth pondered.

“So you’re not in a rush to get home this evening?” Stella interrupted her thoughts.

“My last train home isn’t until Midnight. I can even stay out until 4am if I don’t mind a rail replacement bus.”

“And what about your daughter?”

“Ella’s at a friend’s place tonight,”

“So...night on the tiles?”

“At our age!?”

“Speak for yourself,” Stella finished her glass and emptied the bottle between the two of them. “At least stay out for a few more?”

“Why _are_ you hell bent on reinvigorating my social life?”

“The last job I worked on before this made me appreciate how few friends I actually have.”

“The job in Belfast?”

Stella nodded. 

“You didn’t make any friends over there?”

“One or two.”

Elizabeth sympathised. “I know, it’s hard. I’ve not really had close friends since Chicago. Single parenthood and my career didn’t allow for much else.”

“Well here’s to friendship?” Stella raised a glass, feeling relief wash over her when Elizabeth met it with hers.


	3. Chapter 3

A bottle of wine later, Elizabeth was dragging Stella by the hand through the newly refurbished London Bridge station.

“Why are we running?” Stella asked. ”There are trains to Charing Cross every three minutes.”

“I’m really hungry ok?” Elizabeth laughed.

”There are places to eat around here I’m sure.”

”Yes, but you really need to try their Tarama. And Dolma. And Baklava.”

”In the West End? Really?”

_"Really!"_

Elizabeth wasn’t wrong to sing the food’s praises; the reams of reviews pinned on the walls with stars ranging from Sir Ian McKellen to Julian Clary shaking hands with the staff of the middle eastern cantine that was tucked away between two theatres on Charing Cross Road vouched for its cult status.

“I’ll admit, I try not to come into central too often,” Stella shrugged as she took another bite of the stuffed vine leaves. 

”Worried about bumping into someone?”

“No-one in particular."

"To be fair, even when you _want_ to bump into someone, meet someone, it's just not as easy as you'd think."

"Makes a lot of sense in a city of 8 million, I just like staying in my own stomping ground.”

”Southwark?”

”Southwark is fine for after work. But I spend most weekends near my place in Hampstead.”

”Fancy,” Elizabeth joked.

”Says Ms. _mansion and vineyard in Sussex_.”

Elizabeth laughed. ”I am in my fifties and still live in my father’s house.”

”Yet set to inherit...?”

”Far more than I’d be comfortable to.” Elizabeth sighed, taking a sip of her mint tea. “I do still own our house in Chicago. My stepdaughter lives there now with her own family.”

”You’re not quite the evil stepmother then?”

”Oh I was, fourteen years ago. She deserved it though."

"What happened? Or was it just typical teenage stuff."

"She almost killed Ella. Albeit accidentally..."

"Fuck," Stella said under her breath. She pushed the last Baklava in Elizabeth's direction, Elizabeth putting it into the foil she's requested when they ordered. 

"For Ella," Elizabeth whispered. "So what's the plan now?" she asked. "I showed you my favourite spot, surely it's your turn? Unless The Seafarer's Arms really is yours."

"Well I'd feel bad dragging you further across London if you need to head back towards London Bridge to get home."

"I thought I'd said we have all night," Elizabeth smiled. "Or are you changing your mind now?"

As soon as they stepped outside Stella hailed a cab and was inside it before Elizabeth had even spotted it. "West Hampstead please," she said to the cabbie, who nodded and u turned in the road. It took a twenty minute drive to get out of central London, down Tottenham Court Road and left towards Baker Street, but as soon as the hit the outer perimeter of Regent's Park they made up some speed.

"Where are we headed then?"

"The Gallery. Cocktail bar, they have live Jazz on a weekend."

"Very nice," Elizabeth said, raising her eyebrows.

Stella continued to look straight at Elizabeth while she peered out of the window down the dark Kilburn backstreets. 

Once they arrived at the bar they struggled to get in, being pushed into a queue with youngsters who were being asked for ID to enter. "You must be joking," Elizabeth muttered under her breath as they continued to card everyone. 

"You don't carry ID?" Stella asks.

"Not anything with my date of birth on it," she laughed. "Like I need the reminder." The bouncer looked up as he heard the mature tone of Elizabeth's laugh and let them pass without asking. "Well, now I'm just _insulted._ " 

"What can I get you?" the bartender asked as they approached the bar.

"I don't really do cocktails..." Elizabeth said, pondering over the menu.

"Two old fashioneds, please," Stella said, making herself comfortable on the bar stool. She held up her palm to Elizabeth's hands as she scrambled around for her purse. "No, it's on me. You bought dinner."

"You bought two bottes of wine at the first place."

"Please," Stella cracked a smile for the first time all evening. It appeared now she was in her zone, in both geographical sense as well as her level of comfort. 

They sipped their drinks quietly, not that they could've comfortably held an in-depth conversation above the volume of the live music coming from the next room.

Stella's question for Elizabeth hung on her lips until they spotted some seats in the corner where they were able to talk without shouting. "Elizabeth...What's your story?" she ultimately asked.

"Haven't I already told you most of it?"

"Not that story. _Yours_. Who you are, what you want from life. What makes you tick."

"Is that inherently different from everything else you know about me?"

"You're telling me work and parenting are everything worth knowing about you?"

"Well, no..."

"So...?"

"I don't know," Elizabeth sighed. "But Stella, I don't know anything about you, at _all."_


	4. Chapter 4

Things that Elizabeth learnt about Stella Gibson:

  * Every morning, Stella Gibson swam 16 lengths of an Olympic-sized pool. That's 4000m _every_ morning.  
While the dress she was wearing didn't really show off the body tone she'd achieved as a result of a daily 4km swim, this fact did reveal to Elizabeth what kind of discipline she has.  

  * Her first degree was in Anthropology.  
This was something Elizabeth made a mental note of as Ella had shown interest in this area of study, yet Elizabeth had no idea what to advise on any future career that wasn't in medicine.  
  

  * She took her role in policing _very_ seriously.



"Everything I do is for the sole purpose of saving lives. That's the primary purpose of a Police Officer."

"There would be many who disagree with you," Elizabeth smirked. "Back in Chicago, I would have too."

"Don't get me wrong, I understand anti-police sentiment, especially in the states. I saw more guns in six months in Belfast than I'd ever seen previously in my life," Stella sighed. "If every Met Officer had done the same I think a lot of attitudes would change. No more would they be moaning about how much of a hard time they get, they would start to understand why we _don't_ want weapons around that serve only to further escalate these situations where we are called to intervene. Being able to use language as a tool is the most powerful thing we have. But every bloke with a stab-vest and baton gets gun envy the second I even mention being trained up to work in Belfast."

"I bet they must find you intimidating. But I also can't help but think this is what happens when you have women in charge in any field, when they're so used to running the town."

"So let's not let them," Stella smiled, forcing a smile onto Elizabeth's face. She made a signal for them to leave, and Elizabeth obliged, finishing the bitter dregs of her whiskey cocktail and putting on her coat, far too engrossed in their conversation to ask where they were going.

"What's your plan? Next steps?" Stella asked her, snapping her out of her floating headspace.

"Oh I don't know. Head of Surgery. I have filled in that position a few times..."

"You slept with your department head?" Stella said, not missing a second.

"Ha ha, very funny." Elizabeth followed Stella in her brisk pace around the corner and up four or five houses or so. 

"Maybe that's what it takes to finally get that six-figure promotion," Stella rummaged in her handbag for her keys.

"You're not earning six figures?"

"I love that you question my salary and not my lack of integrity."

"Let me rephrase my question - _You haven't slept with your superior?"_

"No I haven't, actually. A couple of people lower down the pecking order, but not usually causing a conflict of interest."

"Not usually?"

"One of the last guys I slept with from work turned up dead the next day." 

"Yikes. One of many? Should I be worried? Intimidated?"

"I don’t know. Were you planning on us sleeping together?"

"I don't know, it's not often I get invited back to someone's house. How on Earth do you afford this place not on six figures?" Elizabeth's distraction looking at the brownstone detached house diverted her head away from a potentially incredibly awkward moment, implying not only that she was interested in Stella, but assuming that Stella had any interest in her, or women _at all._

"Inheritance. It may be the root of all evil, but it does help," Stella smiled, clicking open her front door and inviting Elizabeth in ahead of her.

Once inside, Stella took Elizabeth's coat and invited her to sit, taking a bottle of whiskey from a cabinet and pouring them both a glass. "Ice?" 

"Oh, no thankyou," Elizabeth said politely. Now that they were inside and not surrounded by the bustle of London on a Friday night, she'd found her confidence flailing. She nodded with thanks as Stella joined her, sitting closely next to her on the beige sofa.

"I hope you didn't think I was being...forward," Elizabeth said softly. "Making the assumption that you were..."

"That I'm into women?" Stella interrupted, raising her eyebrows.

Elizabeth nodded, sipping on her scotch.

"Well...I tend to keep my options open. How about you, Ms. Corday?"

"I would say the same, but, to be perfectly honest, I haven't had an awful lot of options recently."

"I find that hard to believe," Stella smirked, putting her hand on Elizabeth's thigh. "And for the record, I did appreciate your forwardness. Although it could've been a perfectly innocent joke, so if you'd prefer we keep things purely amicable, feel free to say so."

"N-no, this is...good."

"I'm glad you like it," Stella pouted, merely keeping her hand confidently pressed on Elizabeth's thigh, turning slightly to look straight into Elizabeth's soft multi-coloured eyes. She brushed the caramel-coloured curls that were crowding Elizabeth's face away, tucking the most rebellious ones behind her ear, and leant in to kiss her.

As Elizabeth kissed back she felt a buzz she would've put down to her slightly tipsy state or the kiss itself, but as she searched with her hand for Stella's she instead found her phone, that was very much buzzing.

"Do you need to take that?" Stella asked as she pulled away.

Elizabeth quickly glanced down at the phone screen, seeing an unrecognised mobile phone number calling her. "I don't know who it is," she said.

"Take it, just in case," Stella prompted her. "I'll be right back."

"Elizabeth Corday," she answered the phone in an attempt at her usual confident self, however either the whiskey or the kissing had contributed to her voice getting somewhat stuck in her throat.

"Ms. Corday? It's Bree, Ella's friend from school," a frantic American teenage accent screeched down the phone. "It's Ella, sh-she's taken something. I don't know what to do."

"Bree!? Where are you!? Is she conscious?"

Stella returned from the bathroom hearing the alarm in Elizabeth's voice and attempted to make eye contact with her new friend, a look of concern on her face. She grasped Elizabeth's hand as the doctor gave directions down the phone on what to do, most of it sounded familiar to what she'd once learnt from her frontline response training, which this now reminded her that she probably should renew said training. Elizabeth squeezed her hand back tightly, barely leaving space between her words to breathe.

"Ok, I'm on my way I will see her there!"

Elizabeth sprung up from her spot on the sofa and scrambled to collect her things. "Ella has taken something, they don't know what...they're taking her to A&E, the Royal Free, is that near here?"

"Very near, one stop on the Overground, let's go," Stella said, holding out a hand for Elizabeth.

Elizabeth cracked the briefest of smiles which Stella took to mean she wasn't entirely disappointed with the way things had ended, before she'd answered the phone that was. 

As they waited for the Overground, Stella kept squeezing her hand momentarily. "She'll be ok," Stella said, although once she said it she realised she had absolutely no idea how severe it was. She wrapped her arms around the doctor, who in the panic and rush had forgotten to pick up her coat.


	5. Chapter 5

The front of the hospital was abuzz with your Friday night regular emergency admissions, as well as kids effectively partying outside while their friends were undoubtedly being treated for their poison of choice inside. 

Elizabeth looked around her, feeling so out of place in an environment that once had been so normal to her. The average age of those out front drinking and smoking definitely seemed far too high for any of them to be Ella’s friends, but only at that point did Elizabeth realise that she knew so little about whoever Ella had been spending the night with. At least she knew Bree - the two of them had been friends since Ella started at the American School when they moved to London - and Elizabeth knew Bree’s father, a single Dad who the girls had hinted Elizabeth should date far more times than she was comfortable with. 

“Bree, Tony, hi,” Elizabeth said as she spotted them hanging around the front desk, Stella rushing behind her. “What’s happening?” she shivered, only now the lack of outerwear starting to catch up with her, the draught from the constant open-close of the automatic doors behind them mere metres away not helping.

“They won’t let anyone in but family,” Bree said. Bree herself looked worse for wear, although the red around her eyes and over her mouth and nose implied maybe only vomiting, and most likely the crying that ensued when your best friend gets wheeled out of your party in an ambulance. Both explained the smudged makeup across her face.

Elizabeth managed to get the receptionist's “Hi, I’m Ms. Corday, my daughter is here, Ella Greene?”

“Hi, I’m working on your daughter,” a female doctor in scrubs behind the desk said to her. “Dr. Barnes.”

“I’m a surgeon, tell me everything,” Elizabeth said matter of factly, following the Doctor down a corridor. She stopped and turned, looking for Stella who walked a few steps forward to catch up.

“Sorry are you family too?” the Doctor turned and asked Stella.

“She’s with me,” Elizabeth said without hesitation.

“Sorry, it’s strictly family only.”

 _Show your badge,_ Elizabeth mouthed at Stella, stepping behind the Doctor. She was desperate not to be alone if this was what Elizabeth was imagining it could be.

Thirteen years ago when this had happened, Elizabeth had been sick herself with her flu. This entire scenario brought back exactly how her chest echoed, exactly how her heart was beating, exactly how clammy she felt. At that time, Mark had been with her, although it had led to their subsequent separation and the series of events that followed were a spiral that Elizabeth would rather not relive.

“Detective Superintendent Gibson,” Stella said matter-of-factly, snapping Elizabeth back into the present.

The Doctor said no more, so they continued down the corridor after her. 

“It appears that Ella has ingested MDMA, we’ve given her fluids and her heart rate has since decreased.”

“Was she conscious as she was brought in?”

“I believe so."

"Is she vomiting?"

"She was, but she's since stopped. She's tachycardic so we were looking to admit her to paeds ICU however if we're happy she's adjusted to treatment by the time there's a bed free I'd be happy to release her, given your credentials."

"You're that short on beds are you?" Elizabeth asked dryly, although a look from Stella reminded her that indeed, the NHS was stretched thin, and it was due to the same idiots in charge that Elizabeth herself refused to work in such conditions.

As they entered the cubicle behind the curtain Ella looked asleep. Aside from the hospital gown and drip into the back of her hand, there was little that looked any different than the morning after her Grandad has let her drink a rather large share of his port last Christmas.

Elizabeth day by her daughter’s bed as she slept for the next few hours, accompanied by stale instant coffee that Stella offered, apologetic there was nothing better available at 1am.

”If you’re ok here I’m gonna nip home, I can fetch you both a few things if you need anything?”

”No, it’s fine, you get going. Thanks again for tonight, for everything.”

”I’ll be back,” Stella smiled back.

Only once sitting alone with her daughter did the vulnerability that Elizabeth felt really kick in; the flashbacks to Ella as an infant in the similar scenario played over and over again in her head on loop, struggling to let herself feel the relief of knowing that her adolescent daughter and been far more resilient than she had as a baby. However, what on earth Ella was playing at, when her mother had recounted countless times the events that had unfolded thirteen years ago, filled her to the brim with a hot temper she rarely ever felt at her daughter.

By dawn the anger had dissipated as she saw her baby begin to stir, her eyes squinting at the bright hospital lights.

”Mommy,” Ella said as she felt Elizabeth hand hold hers, the silhouette of her curls in the brightness.

”I’m here...” Elizabeth whispered. “I’m incredibly angry at whoever let this happen, but I’m just glad you’re ok. I love you Ella.”

”I love you too,” she said back.

“We are ready to discharge her,” a nurse whispered through the curtain. “Although social services will want to speak with you.”

"Now?" Elizabeth looked at her watch. It was 4am.

"I suppose not. They have your details though so will be in touch."

”That won’t be necessary,” Stella said to the nurse, introducing herself. “We have it in hand.”

Elizabeth glared at her friend, unaware she had returned, although she knew it was best not to argue at this point, especially as she hadn't got to the bottom of how Ella had even ended up taking one of the pills.

“You can both stay with me,” Stella said as she wrapped the coat she had brought from her house around Elizabeth. “Not about to send you both back on a night bus. Besides, I have plenty of room.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course.”

“It’s not too soon…?”

Stella laughed. “I was offering youa _spare_ room...”

“Oh I’m sorry.”

“It’s ok,” Stella laughed softly. “I liked making you blush, I’m sure it’s the first time anyone has seen you smile in the last six hours.”

”Ella, this is my friend Stella who you met briefly earlier? She’s going to let us stay at her place, just until I speak to Grandad later, ok?”

Ella nodded, still scarcely awake, shuffling across into the wheelchair the nurse had provided for her.

”Her friend is still here...” Stella whispered. “I can have a word?”

”No, I had best speak to them.”


	6. Chapter 6

“Dr. Corday, how is she?” Tony asked Elizabeth in his Texan twang as Stella called a cab over by the desk, carrying Ella’s things as a porter pushed her behind in a wheelchair. _Tactful_ , Stella thought to herself, _calling her by her title._ Although undoubtedly in a different scenario she would insist on being called Elizabeth, or just _Miss Corday_ as is customary in Britain.

“She’s fine, Tony,” Elizabeth sighed. “I have to ask, how on Earth did this happen? It’s bad enough the kids are doing ecstasy, but that was either an incredibly dodgy batch or she must’ve ingested enough for the whole party of them.”

Bree had wandered over to Ella and handed her the knapsack with her things inside.

“Bree said she was at your place.”

“Our place? I assumed they were at yours.”

“For what it’s worth, I don’t think we’re likely to get anything out of them before they’ve had a decent amount of sleep. Or a chance to recover.”

Elizabeth nodded, albeit hesitantly. “We’re staying nearby tonight, I’m sure we can find a time tomorrow, or should I say later today, to get them together.”

“Come for lunch, say 2?”

“I’ll let you know if there’s any problem with that.”

Elizabeth nodded and began to walk back over to her daughter, taking the knapsack back from her, when Terry stepped toward her.

“Who’s the Cop?” he whispered.

“Just a colleague, well, friend. She was with me when Bree called.”

“Ok, just I don’t want the girls getting in trouble over this…”

“Oh, don’t worry. I’m sure Stella won’t be concerned with kids at parties…”

“Elizabeth, the taxi is here,” Stella called over.

“Right, thanks. See you later then?”

Tony nodded and Bree waved shyly to Ella as they left. 

  
  


“There’s a pullout bed in the office downstairs if that’s easier for you? Should be big enough for the two of you.”

“Oh, that’s more than fine, I can’t see myself getting much sleep. But thankyou, again, I really do appreciate it.”

“It’s just through here.” Stella and Elizabeth helped Ella into the room, sitting her in an office chair so they could pull out and make up the bed. Stella disappeared to get some sheets and as she returned she and Elizabeth silently made up the bed. 

Once Ella was tucked in they returned to the kitchen, Stella finishing the scotch she’d left out after Elizabeth declined. 

“I’m sorry this didn’t work out how...well, how _I_ would’ve liked.”

Elizabeth laughed softly. “There are dozens of outcomes I’d much have preferred, trust me.”

“Can I get you anything else?”

“Maybe just some water, just in case? And a bucket.”

“Sure. How about a goodnight kiss?”

Elizabeth first thought how _inappropriate_ she thought it was of her, but at Stella’s smile she softened, relaxing her shoulders.

“Goodnight,” she smiled, giving a soft peck on the lips. “And thankyou, again.” 

“You really don’t have to thank me. I’ll be back in a few minutes, will find something more comfortable for you to sleep in?”

* * *  
  
  


Stella awoke at about ten, which she assumed was the most sleep she was likely to get. She also didn’t want to be a bad host for her guests, which really wasn’t like her.

She made a pot of tea and sat watching it brew, some Saturday morning cooking show on in the background on the lowest discernible volume.

”Sorry, where is the bathroom?” a young voice asked Stella, making her jump.

”Oh, Ella, good morning. It’s just over here,” Stella smiled, trying to hide her fatigue, showing Ella to the first door on the right. “Do you need anything to...freshen up?”

”Um, I should have what I need in my knapsack...”

”Ok, well, you know where I am. And there’s tea brewing if you’d like a cup.”

”Thankyou,” Ella smiled, closing the door behind her.

Sitting back at her kitchen island Stella turned the volume of the TV back up slightly, hoping Elizabeth would soon be joining her, although seeing the state she’d been in when they arrived back in the early hours, she might be waiting some time. 

"Do you have coffee?" Ella asked as she came to the table. "Not for me...for Mom. She always starts the day with coffee."

Stella nodded and stood up to switch on the coffee maker.


	7. Chapter 7

Stella sipped her own cup of tea from the yellow mug that matched the pot before realising Ella was still patiently waiting to be served a cup. She supposed it wasn't exactly normal for a teenager to wake up before her mother in the house of one of her work colleagues, and it would have been stranger to help herself, Stella went on the hunt for a large mug for the girl, who looked as though she most definitely needed it. As she only really had coffee on her way to work in a to-go mug, Stella's cup collection was not one she regularly curated. She looked over the series of mugs with part-missing handles and novelty gifts from distant family members, and ultimately settled on one with a teddy bear holding a balloon that gave away her age as now over forty, not quite the celebration as it had been when she had received it as a gift from an aunt who clearly didn't know her so well.

"Sugar?" Stella asked, which was received with a polite nod from the teenager. "I would offer you breakfast but I wasn't sure on your mother's plans. She did say your friend's father invited you for lunch later," she said to Ella, who again merely nodded.

"I heard."

Stella continued adding spoonfuls of sugar to it until the teenager shrugged in agreement. "Ah, I wasn't sure how lucid you were when we came home," she said, stirring the what seemed like infinite sugar into the hot liquid. "Well we still have a few hours yet, if you'd like something?"

"No, I'm fine, thanks," Ella replied. "Do you know where my phone is?"

Stella shook her head, "no, sorry."

Ella sat awkwardly, her face halfway between smiling and crying. Her eyes followed the minimal décor, a mere navy blue border on the cornices of the ceiling, around the room, before darting back to the bathroom she had used. 

As she emerged again, seconds later, she snooped beyond the confines of the kitchen-living-dining room where they had been sitting and the office where she and her mother had slept, looking down the hall and noticing an empty room at the end of it, still full of ladders, paint cans and paint-dotted sheets.

"Do you live alone?" Ella asked her as she returned to the table.

Stella nodded.

"No...husband?"

"No," Stella laughed, shaking her head. "You could say I've always been married to my work."

"Right, sure," Ella said, breathing in sharply as Elizabeth emerged in the kitchen. Stella passed her the tea and she breathed in the steam deeply, in order to prepare her for what her mother might have to say, if not to quench the impending sickness.

"I would say you're a little young for that Ella," Elizabeth said as she wandered into the kitchen, nodding at the mug. "Although after last night's shenanigans I doubt there's going to be anything to celebrate until you turn forty yourself."

Stella smiled, trying not to laugh at Elizabeth's joke which had been accompanied by a dryness to her voice and a stern look on her face. 

"Morning," Elizabeth said to Stella, putting her hand on her shoulder.

"Good Morning. There's coffee brewing," Stella said in return.

"You're amazing, I'll leave you a great review on _Tripadvisor_ ," Elizabeth smiled. 

Stella smiled back before looking down at her hands. She felt an awkwardness in her kitchen that left her uneasy, not a feeling she often felt. After grabbing another mug for Elizabeth - sadly this one a sponsored item from the _Police Federation_ that could probably live at work - and handing it to her, she popped some more milk in the small yellow jug before disappearing back upstairs out of the way.

"I don't want to get into this too much now, Ella," Elizabeth said, resting her hand on her head. "For one, I have some waking up to do, and two, I'd prefer to get the full sequence of events from you and Bree together, so she can fill in any gaps. _However_ , I _would_ like to know if there's anything she or anyone else forced you to do that you weren't comfortable doing."

"Mom, I wasn't...nobody...we were just partying, that's all. No... _sex."_

 _"Right_ ," Elizabeth said, sipping her coffee. "I'm glad. Do you remember them asking you anything similar at the hospital?"

"No."

"They didn't ask you about if you could've been assaulted? Nothing about a rape kit?"

"I don't remember Mom. But I don't think I was. I'm fine..."

"Well yes, thanks to the great Doctors and Nurses of the National Health Service, you are."

"I know..."

"Do you remember taking the pills?"

"Yes."

"And nobody forced you to do that?"

"No...I just, I took one and didn't feel anything, so I asked Marko for a second."

"Ah, so there's a _Marko_. Did he...supply the drugs?"

"No, he's a friend from school."

"Do you know where he got the drugs from?"

"No."

"Ella, you're going to have to help me here. I don't want to get you further into trouble, trust me, you've got plenty of that coming from me once we get home and speak to your grandfather. If it was Bree and you're covering for her, or the two of you are trying to cover for someone else...you can tell me."

"Is that why you have my phone?"

"Ella, please, let me be the parent."

"Do people even know I'm ok?"

"Which people need to know beyond the four of us at the hospital last night?"

"What your Detective friend, she needs to know?"

"Ella, Stella was only there because I was here _with her_ when I got the call, that's all."

"Why were you _here_?"

"Because I'm allowed a bloody social life, Ella, that's why. Now can you please answer my question before I decide I _do_ want to get the police involved."

"Ok...Marko, from school, he works at the noodle bar...Soba & Sake. He and his friends from work, they came to the party after they finished work...one of them brought the molly. He was just...in charge of it. He and Bree...they're the ones who stayed sober."

Elizabeth sighed. "I appreciate that you were trying to be responsible, but you have to be aware that you have absolutely no idea where this stuff is coming from, or what is even in it."

"I know."

"I know you're growing up, you're wanting to try new things...we had all of this with your sister fourteen years ago. But you're only fifteen, you're in no rush to do any of this, especially not _drugs_. And for that reason, once we're back home, you are only to leave the house for school, you are to meet me at the hospital a half hour after you finish classes or practice and will take the train home with me, every day, until Christmas Break. No exceptions."

"But _Mom_..."

"No buts. Now go get ready, we're going to get out of Stella's hair."

Ella stormed to the office where she rummaged through her knapsack for her toothbrush, before stomping back across the room to the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.

"You don't have to do that..." Stella said, emerging on the stairs. "Leave, I mean. If you're not having lunch for another three hours..."

"No, it's fine, I don't want us disturbing you."

"You're not, honestly," Stella smiled sympathetically, meeting Elizabeth to take her hand. "We could go for a walk on the Heath? Get some brunch on the way?"

"That would be wonderful," Elizabeth smiled. "Shame we will have the teenager in tow..." she said, lowering her voice.

"We can make it a date another time," Stella smiled back. "Although it sounds like we won't be having many chances to go out again soon..."

"No. But I do owe you one, so we should make plans for you to come down, see the vineyard?"

"I'd like that," Stella smiled. She handed Elizabeth some fresh towels and other bits and pieces she may need. "I'll go get ready, see you back here in 20?"


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inspired (in part) by the prompt of “We need to talk”, as a part of [deity-prompts' 30 Day Angst Challenge](https://deity-prompts.tumblr.com/post/641228593218863105/do-you-have-any-other-writing-challenges-i-saw), which I'm aiming to complete in the Month of March 2021 (albeit not in order, and most definitely not on time).

Despite coffee at brunch and again at lunch, Elizabeth found herself nearly falling asleep on the train home, being awoken by Ella as their train pulled away from the platform at Gatwick Airport and they began to gather the few things they had with them. The walk on the Heath with Stella, a pastry and a coffee would have been wonderful in any other circumstances, but Elizabeth found her mind otherwise occupied to the extent that she hadn't spoken much as she and Stella walked side-by-side for a good hour or so; nor noticed Stella's pinkie stroking the side of her hand as they sat on a bench allowing Ella ample time to catch up with them having trailed behind at a snail's pace. 

The fresh air will have done her good, as will the lunch with Bree and Tony, although the baked feta pasta was the extent of what was pleasant for the girls. Usually soft-spoken Tony had shown a side Elizabeth had surely never seen before, and they'd done some collective parenting when deciding the consequences of the girls' actions, despite their innocent intentions.

"We need to talk," Elizabeth said to her father, who, as always, was delighted to see the return home of his daughter and granddaughter, although this time, he felt guilty to acknowledge that as the two of them most definitel were worse for ware. 

"Is she ok?" he replied, referring to the stomping on the stairs as Ella ran upstairs to her room. 

"Health-wise, she's lucky, but she'd fine. And otherwise, well, she doesn't appreciate being grounded for everything non-school related for the next three months. And some things school-related."

"Football games?"

Elizabeth nodded. "She hadn't quite appreciated the terrible state her body was in after the overdose, if that's indeed all it was. There was no sample of the stuff to know if there had been anything else in her system wreaking havoc. So I told her she can train but no matches until I'm satisfied she's well enough. And that she's learnt her lesson."

"Molly, was it? Isn't that what the kids call it?" Charles asked, standing up as soon as the kettle was whistling to pour the hot water into the teapot.

"I'm astounded you were aware of that. At least I know you won't be falling for her meeting her friend in the village to do homework," Elizabeth laughed. She sighed heavily as her father lifted the pot onto the table, putting out two cups and pulling his chair close to his daughter.

"Don't blame yourself, Lizzie," he said, lifting his daughter's face with a gentle hand beneath her chin. "Although, as much as I hate to say it, if I do remember correctly, it isn't the first time you've had to deal with it either."

"I didn't deal with the situation with Rachel any more than bury my head in the sand. To think I almost didn't..." Elizabeth's voice trailed off, trying not to think too much of her stubborn insistence to punish her husband in his waning years. "I did always mean to talk to Ella about that," she said, dabbing away at a tear in the corner of her eye. "About _Rachel._ I didn't think _my_ baby would be dabbling in this sort of thing anytime soon."

"Lizzie...you've hardly been dealt a friendly hand over the last fifteen years. Yes, Ella royally fucked up here, but she _is_ a teenager, that is what teenagers do. Teenagers mess up. Heck, even _you_ did. Although I wouldn't quite equate this to the _equestrian incident_."

Elizabeth chuckled between her sniffles and tears. "Mother did insist I learn... to her own reputation's detriment."

"I assume you haven't told Isabel about any of this?"

Elizabeth shook her head. "I don't know if I _can_. You know how she reacted to my insistence that Ella go to school in London, almost begging me to use her ties to get her into any boarding school from St. Andrews down to the Kent Coast. As if an International School full of diplomats' kids has the same problems as an inner-city comprehensive."

"...Well it appears _that_ may _well_ be the case," Charles said, pouring tea for the two of them. "There's only so much you can protect her from."

Elizabeth nodded.

"What did this friend's father have to say about the situation?"

"His daughter had given the same story to him that Ella had to me. Sleepover at a friend's house, will be home in the morning. It was only the phone call in the early hours that gave them away."

"And the party, the drugs?"

"Boys, of course. This could've been going on for months with neither of us any the wiser. Ella's friend, Bree, seemed put out that she was in as much trouble despite not having partaken, but Tony and I agreed it very much seemed to be appended with a _this time around._ The only thing worse than seeing Ella in that state on the hospital bed was knowing she could've been party to this happening to someone else."

At about six they called Ella down for dinner, merely tomato soup and cheese on toast as neither Elizabeth nor Charles were in the mood to cook. 

"I was surprised that you stayed out, actually," Charles said. "I expected to have you back just gone midnight. I suppose you would have been had you not been at her bedside at the Royal London."

"Yes, you're right, father," Elizabeth smiled, feeling dishonesty get the best of her. 

_Like mother, like daughter._


End file.
